


By the River

by Izagloria



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Consensual Sex, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Time travel reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:34:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25054747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izagloria/pseuds/Izagloria
Summary: Reader is mysteriously transported back in time, and spends the winter falling in love with Finan but not wanting to admit it. Takes place one day in late spring :)
Relationships: Finan (The Last Kingdom)/Reader, Gisela/Uhtred of Bebbanburg
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What's up guys, this is my first fic ever & I wanted to crosspost here because I hate reading things on tumblr & I'm sure other people do too. I'm @thecookhamboys there, come say hi!
> 
> Gaelic disclaimer: I d.o.n.t speak Gaelic.  
> nách mór an diabhal thú = aren’t you the devil  
> A rúnsearc = secret love / beloved

Finan looked out across the water. Even now, he hated it, and felt only comfortable going in to wash, and even then as quickly as possible. He hated more that Sverri had taken away something that had brought him so much youthful joy. In Ireland there had been a waterfall in a hidden glade. The water was freezing, but when he needed an escape he would take a horse and spend hours there, floating on his back and staring up at the trees. Once his arms and legs fell numb, he would climb out and lie on the grassy bank until he was dry, slowly put his clothes back on, and ride home. 

You broke him out of his thoughts with a joyful shout. 

“Finan! Come in! The water’s freezing, but you get used to it, I swear.” He couldn’t help but give a small smile in response to your wide one. 

You had confused him since showing up on the outskirts of Cookham in late fall, dressed in garb he had never seen before. From far away he had taken you for a boy, but as he got closer he had seen the way the pants hugged your hips, and your shirt had shown a tantalizing strip of stomach before he shook off the sight and wrapped you in his cloak. He had barely found out anything about where you were from, just that it was west - more west even than Iceland - and that it was extraordinarily different there. 

Now, it was a surprisingly warm day in spring, and you had dragged him down to the river to swim. 

“I’m staying here, don’t ye worry about me,” he called back. With a small frown, you started moving towards him out of the water. He couldn’t help but think you looked like a goddess from the waves as you rose out of the water, shift translucent and clinging to your shoulders, the curve of your-

He sucked in a breath and turned around, aiming to preserve what little modesty you had left. 

“Finan? What are you...” Your voice trailed off, and he pictured the flush that must be rising on your face to match his own. “Oh. Ohhhh this is white. Finan? Can you hear me?” He gave a single jerky nod. “I’m back in the water. You can turn around, I just want to know what’s wrong.” He took a deep breath and turned around, placing his eyes five feet above your right shoulder. 

“I hate the water. Have for years.” He gave a small shrug and a slight sigh. Your forehead twisted in thought. 

“I visited Ireland when I was young. Eight? Ten maybe? We stayed in the southwest, I don’t remember exactly where. There was this waterfall, tucked away in the forest behind the house. It was gorgeous, but freezing,” you laughed. “I went with my dad and brothers. The two of them got cold and lost interest just a few minutes in, but my dad and I floated for hours. We did that so many places. The two of us never got cold. We’d swim in the ocean until our feet were numb and my lips were blue, but never even feel it.” 

You had a faraway look, and Finan was filled with the urge to wrap you up in his arms and hold you tight. His hands twitched at his side, and it took more effort to remain still than he cared to admit. You wiped beneath your eyes and gave a faint smile. “Come in? Just a little? I...” you trailed off, then found your strength. “I won’t make you swim, but will you hold my hand while I float?”

The way you were looking at him helped him push the thought of Sverri and the slave ship to the back of his mind. He knelt to take off his boots, then stood up and started untucking his shirt. 

“I guess it’s my turn to look away, isn’t it,” you said, somewhat reluctantly, from your position of your shoulders just barely grazing the surface. “You won’t want to get your pants wet.”

“Ach, _nách mór an diabhal thú_. I don’t mind. One of us must stay half dressed, and ye already...” He gave a feeble arm wave and swallowed before continuing. “What would the abbess say?”

He pulled his shirt over his head and waded into the water before he could give it a second thought. He held out his hand as he approached you, and you looked up at him through wet lashes. You delicately took his hand, and he turned away, staring up at the nearly cloudless sky. He felt you squeeze his hand with a gentle sigh as you relaxed back into the water. He squeezed back, and the freezing cold lapping at his waist didn’t feel quite as hostile as he closed his eyes and whispered to the sky. 

“ _A rúnsearc_. I’ve got you.”


	2. Chapter 2

It took five hours for reality to set in. The first two had been spent in blissful ignorance, then another hour in denial. The fourth and fifth hours ticked by with mounting horror, culminating in one terrifying realization.

“There’s no aloe,” you whispered to yourself. “God, I thought the potatoes were the worst part, but there’s no aloe and no  _ ice either _ .” With a deep, resigned sigh, you pulled the neckline of your shift back up, hissing as it rubbed against the horrible sunburn that covered the tops of your shoulders and your chest. It happened every summer, one afternoon that turned you a deep tomato red and reminded you why your mom insisted on 90 spf. 

The burn on your face intensified-if that was even possible-with the thought of the events of the morning. Finan had seemed content for the first while that you were in the water, but after some time the grip on your hand tightened and so did the lines on his face. For several minutes you searched for ways to diplomatically send him off, but you were saved from the awkward conversation by Sihtric. 

“Finan? Are you catching us fish or just avoiding training?” One of your eyes cracked open enough to see Finan’s face break into a smile at the sight of his best friend. 

“No, just keepin’ this one from floating away. Turns out her idea of a swim is fallin’ asleep half naked.” At that, you opened your eyes and moved to a crouch indignantly.

“Hey! That was an accident that  _ neither _ of us thought about and you know it!” You splashed some water at him and he and Sihtric laughed while you actively didn’t look at the water sparkling on his broad chest. “Really though, if you have to go I don’t mind. I think I’ll lie on the sand for a while and enjoy the day.” He looked down at you and nodded, then waded out of the water while yelling at Sihtric to throw him his shirt. You dunked under one last time while they left, then waded out yourself. 

Beach days in the northeast had always been about maximizing sun exposure and building a tan that would last, so you didn’t even hesitate to expose yourself. The shift’s drawstring top hem simplified rearranging to form a strapless neckline, and it was easy enough to pull up the bottom hem and tie it in a knot at your thighs. You settled in by the shore, and the sounds of the water combined with the unseasonal warmth of the sun to lure you to sleep. 

When you finally startled from your slumber it was clear that you had been there for hours; not great, since you were expected at the hall to help prepare dinner. Nothing had been amiss when you redressed, and you’d slipped in just in time to escape Gisela’s wrath and dive in chopping the endless amount of vegetables needed to feed those who sat at Uhtred’s table each night. 

The sunburn escaped your notice until you were deep into your second cup of ale, and staring at your hands became a necessary distraction from Finan’s stupid, charming face across the table. That changed with the third cup, when his allure overbalanced your embarrassment.

“Finan, ugh, check this out. I fell asleep by the river today and look at this.” You tugged your dress down to reveal a startlingly red chest, and watched in amusement as you tapped it and left lasting white fingerprints. He laughed at your misfortune, but even after you pulled the neckline up and moved back into the table’s conversation he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from the strip of burned skin by your collarbones. 

The aloe realization came when you were preparing for bed. You’d done a full exam of exactly which places were burned, knowing that it would only be worse tomorrow, and had resigned yourself to a hot, sleepless night. Knowing that there was no relief on the horizon made you look forward to the next morning even less, and you set about to prepare as best you could. You opened the window to let in the cool night air, and left only the thinnest blanket out on the bed. You were folding away your two furs when a knock on the door surprised you, especially when you unlatched it and a smiling face with guarded eyes greeted you.

“I hope it’s not too late- I was mixin’ something up for ye,” he held out a small wooden bowl. You leaned forward and gave it a sniff, then looked up at him curiously.

“Is that ... milk?”

“Aye, with a little honey. It’ll help. Do ye have a cloth?” You turned to find one, and he moved into the room with you. When you turned with the cloth, it was to him holding a hand out expectantly. “I’ll help. I owe ye for this morning. That’s the longest stretch that I’ve enjoyed the water in years.” You bit your bottom lip and looked down. He glanced around the room, assessing the next move, and finally jerked his head towards the bed. “Ye don’t have anywhere else to sit. Go on, I’ll take care of ye.” 

Sitting, you looked up at him with a smirk. “I should warn you: this sunburn covers more than is proper for a lady to reveal,” you continued, laughing, “good thing I’m not a lady.” You loosened the drawstring at your neckline and slipped both arms out of the sleeves, retying them in front to ease the blush coloring Finan’s face. 

“Ye weren’t jokin’, were ye. Arms first.” He held out a hand and you placed your left in it while he soaked the cloth. He squeezed it out gently, then in several smooth strokes wiped the mixture down the length of your arm. You let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan, and immediately flushed, though you were sure he could barely tell. He huffed out a laugh, and let your hand go. “Feels good, aye?” With your nod, he held out his hand again and you gave him your right hand, marveling at how much of the burning had stopped. Once your arms were done, he moved closer, lightly wiping the cloth over your shoulders and chest, furrowed brows focused on keeping drips from staining the cloth of your shift. You couldn’t help but watch him, and when he shifted to your face, having all his focus on you left you scarcely able to breathe. When the cloth wiped over your cheek, you reached up to catch his wrist, holding his hand in position.

“Finan... thank you. For everything. You’ve been so kind to me these last few months, and I want you to know that I appreciate you, and all that you’ve done for me.”

“Ach, I’m sure ye’d appreciate it less if ye knew how selfish my motivations are, lass.” You reached up for him and tucked a hand on the back of his neck, mirroring his own position, and pulled him closer.

“I have selfish motivations too,” you whispered. His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of doubt or uncertainty in the sparkles from the candlelight.

“Are ye sure?” he breathed. You nodded and he closed the distance, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You tilted your head to deepen it, and his other hand moved to rest on your knee, causing you to break away with a hiss. 

“Owwwww. Please tell me there’s enough of that left for my legs.”

“Yer legs? I thought ye were wearin’ this?”

“Yeah, well, I tied it up. Move back,” you said, patting the side of his face. Once you had space you rose and tied up the hem much as you had earlier, wrinkling your nose at the contrast between the white cloth and red skin.

“Ye look like the baby monk’s wet dream,” he muttered, taking in the full view.

“Only if the baby monk likes boiled lobsters,” you snickered, sitting back down. “Will you continue your ministrations please, oh doctor Finan?”

“Aye, with pleasure,” he said smugly, kneeling between your bared legs. “Ach, ye even got the tops of your feet.” He carefully lifted each foot into his lap, wiping the cloth from the knee down. Once he was done with that, though, you could tell you were in trouble. He looked up at you with sparkling eyes. “Just say the word and I’ll stop. I’ll do anything ye say. Always.” He reached below your knee, hoisting your leg up onto his shoulder and forcing you to lean back on one elbow. This time, when he applied the liquid, he didn’t squeeze out the cloth, instead chasing the extra drops with swipes of his tongue. 

“Finan-“ his name came out of your mouth strangled, but it didn’t keep him from pausing immediately. 

“What, lass?” You reached a hand towards him, tucking it into the short hair just behind his ear, taking a second to catch your breath.

“I am not a virgin.” His eyes darkened and you could tell his brain was moving through all the terrible possibilities, so you hurried on, not wanting him to worry. “It was by choice, but I thought you should know. Where I am from people are much more casual.” He nodded, eyes not leaving yours. “You don’t need to be gentle, but be tender. Please.”

He pressed a kiss to your thigh, which still rested over his shoulder, and lifted the other one to match, tipping you onto your back. From his position between your thighs, he looked at you with eyes of pure sin, and moved forward until you could feel his breath on your core. He licked his lips once, then dove into you, alternating long stripes with careful, quick circles around your clit. His hands wrapped the tops of your hips, holding you to his mouth even as you clutched at his hair to keep him from pulling away. 

He was merciless with his tongue, and when your thighs tightened around his head with your climax he coaxed you through it, waiting until you tugged on his hair to pull away. He climbed onto the bed to hover over you, and you brought him in for a kiss, loving the taste of your own wetness on his lips. Eventually you broke away, if only to roll you both so you were on top. You tugged at the laces of his breeches, and after a few seconds of fumbling his cock sprang free. Leaning down, you took it in your mouth, sending a quick prayer to whoever was listening that your experiences with 21st century boys was applicable. You took him as deep as you could, using your hand to stroke what you couldn’t fit, and set a gentle rhythm, guiding his hand to twine in your hair. After a bitten off curse when you used your other hand to cup his balls, he brought you back up for another searing kiss. You reached underneath yourself to line him up, and sank down, enjoying the strange fullness. He looked at you with wonder as you rocked back and forth over him, and brought his hands to where your shift gathered at the top of your ass. When he neared his own climax, he sat up, wrapping one strong arm around your back to pull you close as he thrust upwards. He finally stilled with his face buried in your neck, and nipped at it before kissing the mark gently. You rose up just enough for him to slip out of you, then sat back down, resting your head on his. He mumbled something into your shoulder and you frowned, not understanding. 

“Finan? You said that word earlier but I don’t think you’ve said what it means?” He laughed, shaking his head and disturbing the hand that was carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“No I have not. I couldn’t before now.” Your hand resumed its gentle combing, and he sighed. “It means ‘my love’. My secret love,” he amended, “for when ye know it but they do not. Although I suppose ye know now.” You kissed him on the forehead gently, soaking up the feeling of being in his arms and having him in yours. 

“I love you too.” When you finally got off him, he moved as if to leave. “Finan? Where are you going?” He stopped and looked at you, startled.

“It’s not proper if I stay, if someone comes in tomorrow morning and sees me sleeping here with ye...” He trailed off, seeing that his words had no impact. You shook your head, and laughed a little to yourself.

“What if I told you that where I’m from, it’s even less proper than that to make a girl feel like this and then leave when she wants you to stay?”

“Well, I’d ask when ye’d ever known me to be improper?” You laughed at that, climbing under the blanket and holding it open so he could slide in next to you once he’d removed his breeches and blown out the candles. You fell asleep quickly, sunburn completely forgotten, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from your face, lit up gently by the moon. In the safety of your sleep, he trailed a finger over your collarbone and pressed kisses to your hair. Finally, he pressed one last kiss to the overheated skin of your cheek, and let himself relax, content with the presence of you curled up next to him. He whispered “I love you,” into the cool night air, and let himself fall into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the nice comments, it's so incredibly inspiring and I really couldn't hope for a more supportive fandom. Again, I'm @thecookhamboys on tumblr :)


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